


Only If You'd Like Me To

by malneiro



Series: SakuAtsu Fluff Week 2021 [1]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Roommates/Housemates, Awkward First Times, Domestic Fluff, First Time, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Food, Frottage, Getting Together, M/M, Marking, NSFWsktsfluffweek2021, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings, Post-Time Skip, Roommates, SakuAtsu Week, Valentine's Day, Valentine's Day Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-14
Updated: 2021-02-14
Packaged: 2021-03-15 18:48:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,300
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29440704
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/malneiro/pseuds/malneiro
Summary: “So, Valentine’s Day is at the end of the week—”“How could I forget,” Sakusa mutters.Atsumu glares at him. “Anyway, I was thinking that we could do something. Since, ya know, we’re both busy and shit. Though it’d be fun.” He shrugs, trying to play it off as casual even though Sakusa can clearly see the tips of his ears turning bright red. “We could make dinner together or something.”Sakusa makes a face at him. “Make dinner? Why would I want to do that?”“I mean, ya don’t have to, I just—” He sighs and hits his head against the arm of the chair then pops back up. “Please, Omi-Omi? It’ll be fun, I promise!”Sakusa screws up his face, but he already knows what his decision is going to be.Or, it's Valentine's Day and neither Sakusa or his roommate Atsumu have a date, per usual, so they decide to just spend it with each other. Better than spending it alone, anyway.
Relationships: Miya Atsumu/Sakusa Kiyoomi
Series: SakuAtsu Fluff Week 2021 [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2162511
Comments: 4
Kudos: 152
Collections: SakuAtsu Fluff Week 2021





	Only If You'd Like Me To

**Author's Note:**

> So, this is my entry for SakuAtsu Fluff Week 2021, Day 1! It's my first time posting fanfic and doing smut, so I tried my best. It was fun to write anyway, Happy Valentine's Day. This ended up being so much longer than I originally thought that it was going to be but that's life.

Sakusa hates Valentine’s Day. He hates it with a burning passion, and every year, he adamantly refuses to acknowledge it. And it only has partly to do with the fact that he’s persistently single. It’s on principle. He’s never had time for romance, and besides that, he’s not even really that into women in general so the tradition of getting chocolates was useless to him, not to mention he hates people giving him food that they’ve touched. There’s nothing about it that does anything for him.

Atsumu, his teammate out of contractual obligation and roommate out of convenience and necessity, has a different attitude. He’s told Sakusa extensively about all the chocolates he used to receive in high school from fans, and still receives now (Sakusa does his best to tune him out but fuck he’s loud), mostly complaining even though they both know that he secretly loves the attention. 

But, like Sakusa, he’s too consumed with volleyball for any kind of romance, so the holiday isn’t all that fun for him either. Sakusa generally doesn’t think about this fact, but as the holiday gets closer and closer, he starts to notice that it does bother Atsumu. It’s hard not to, given how many times he brings it up when they’re both at home, after everything that needs to be done is done, and they’re just relaxing. Sakusa is trying to wind down, Atsumu occupies his time by either bothering Sakusa (intentionally or unintentionally) or something else, and lately, the topic of Valentine’s Day has come up more and more. It doesn’t make sense to Sakusa, given how much of Atsumu’s life is consumed by volleyball, of his own choice.

So, it isn’t exactly a surprise when Atsumu comes to him the week of Valentine’s Day. 

Sakusa gives him a withering glare over his book. “I swear to god this better be good, Miya.”

Atsumu grimaces, kneeling down beside the chair Sakusa is curled up in. “I knoooow, you’re on the last chapter, come on, this is important.”

Sakusa heaves a melodramatic sigh and puts his book down on his lap. “All right, fine. What is it, Atsumu?”

Atsumu grins upon hearing Sakusa using his given name and drapes his arms over the arm of his chair. “So, Valentine’s Day is at the end of the week—”

“How could I forget,” Sakusa mutters.

Atsumu glares at him. “Anyway, I was thinking that we could do something. Since, ya know, we’re both busy and shit. Though it’d be fun.” He shrugs, trying to play it off as casual even though Sakusa can clearly see the tips of his ears turning bright red. “We could make dinner together or something.”

Sakusa makes a face at him. “Make dinner? Why would I want to do that?” 

“I mean, ya don’t have to, I just—” He sighs and hits his head against the arm of the chair then pops back up. “Please, Omi-Omi? It’ll be fun, I promise!”

Sakusa screws up his face, but he already knows what his decision is going to be. As much as he and Atsumu bicker, it’s more lighthearted these days than when they first met. In the beginning, they would never have opted to spend more time than they had to together, but before Atsumu came over to lean on Sakusa’s chair, they had been sitting quietly in the living room together—Sakusa reading and Atsumu stretched across the couch on his phone. 

And besides that, as much as Atsumu’s been playing his talk of Valentine’s Day off as indifference, Sakusa can tell that he’s bothered by the fact that he doesn’t have anyone for Valentine’s Day. It doesn’t quite make sense given that he’s never expressed any interest in getting in a relationship—his life revolves around volleyball. Sakusa admires his dedication, but it doesn’t line up with being unhappy about being single, which confuses him. 

Sakusa sighs. “All right, fine. What do you want to make for dinner?”

“Okonomiyaki! It’s easy, so it’s perfect, since ya don’t know how to cook,” Atsumu says, oblivious to the way Sakusa winces at this, wondering where on earth he picked that up. It was true, but Sakusa hadn’t exactly brought it up explicitly. Had he mentioned it in passing, and Atsumu just remembered it somehow, or maybe he’d just picked it up from observations? Did Atsumu pay that much attention to him? Either way, it stirred an odd feeling in his gut. 

“Sounds fine to me. I’ll pick up ingredients on my way back home from practice that day,” Sakusa mutters. “Just text me a list of what you what in the thing.”

Atsumu pumps his fist. “Thanks Omi-kun!” With that, he springs up fro9m where he’s kneeling next to the armchair and flops back down onto the couch with a contented sigh, pulling out his phone again as they lapse into silence. Sakusa settles back into the chair and starts reading again, pulling his knees up to his chest. 

So, that was how he ended up at the grocery store for the second time that week, going over a list of ingredients Atsumu had sent him via text, along with a reminder that he could pick up anything else he wanted to add to the okonomiyaki. All week, he’d been worrying over messing up their meal, but looking at the ingredients, it all seemed pretty basic. And besides, Atsumu would be there. There was no way that Sakusa could mess it up all that badly with Atsumu there, something he’d been increasingly nervous about. They’d never done anything like this before.

Sakusa tossed a package of salmon in the cart and pushed onwards. He really wasn’t sure what he would want to put on the okonomiyaki even if he wanted to decide something. He wasn’t used to cooking. He avoided it as much as possible, partly because he had no idea how to do it. 

He glowered at the rows of food, contemplating whether he should throw something in the cart just to show that he was contributing, but decided against it. He was contributing by buying the food for it. 

Nervousness had been brewing in his stomach throughout the week, and it’s only getting worse standing here in the grocery store, buying actual ingredients to actually cook a meal. Part of him was starting to regret agreeing to do this, but how could he say no when Atsumu gave him that look? 

Sakusa stops and pulls out his phone to check the list that Atsumu had given him. Not too much left to pick up. It shouldn’t take too long. By the time he gets back to their apartment, Atsumu should be home from extra practice and visiting his brother. He pushes the cart on.

He idly picks up the rest of the ingredients, going back to the list from time to time to make sure he’s got everything. 

On the way to check out, he stalls beside a display of chocolate boxes and tosses one into the cart on a whim. 

When he gets home, Atsumu is in the kitchen puttering around and getting things ready. There’s not all that much to get ready though, so he’s mostly just finding ways to keep himself busy when he gets there. 

Atsumu looks up from the sink, where he’d been doing dishes, when Sakusa walks in the door. “Thought you’d gotten lost or something,” he says with a pointed smile and goes to take some of the bags from Sakusa to bring to the kitchen table. 

Sakusa rolls his eyes. “I’ve been to the grocery store before.”

Atsumu snorts. “Yeah, to the frozen food section.” 

Sakusa glares and him and begins unpacking the bags in front of him, but frowns deeper. He could have sworn he…. He switches to another one. It has to be here, he remembers buying it. Oh no, did he lose it? Shit. Not a big deal, but…. 

“Uh…. Omi?”

Sakusa looks up, confused by the tone in Atsumu’s voice. Did he buy the wrong ingredient? But when he looks up, he sees Atsumu cradling the little box of chocolate and staring at him with wide eyes. Sakusa clears his throat and looks back down at the grocery bags in embarrassment. “I bought it for you. I know it’s not fancy, just sort of last minute thing, like a thank you,” he says quickly. 

“Omi….” Sakusa braces himself and looks back up, but Atsumu’s holding the cheap little box of chocolate to his chest and looking at him with a degree of softness he didn’t think possible from Atsumu. He swallows hard. Atsumu fumbles with the chocolate and starts to go to hug Sakusa but pulls himself back, which sinks a bit of unexpected disappointment in his stomach, and hugs the chocolate tighter to his chest. “Thank you. You know what? Since I didn’t get anything for you, why don’t we share it?”

He grabs a knife from the counter and slits the box open, and put it on the kitchen counter. “There! Now we can both eat it while we cook.” He flashes a smile at Sakusa and then grabs some things from the bag. “I made the batter yesterday, so all we have to do is whip up some other things.”

After they both wash their hands, he goes to get the batter from the fridge and puts Sakusa to work chopping the cabbage and salmon, which Sakusa suspects is because he doesn’t trust him not to mess the batter up. Either way, he doesn’t mind it. He falls into a nice rhythm with the knife. It’s not the best chopping, because he’s not used to the knife, but he does his best. 

While he’s doing that, Atsumu is adding a bunch of things to the batter, including eggs. He’s rolled up his sleeves to free up his arms to beat the mixture together, and as a result Sakusa nearly misses cutting his fingers with the knife several times. All those hours spent in the gym and staying late after practice have paid off. 

When Sakusa’s done with the cabbage and salmon, he nudges Atsumu, who looks up and smiles at Sakusa brightly. It makes his stomach turn to mush. “Good job, Omi-kun! Why don’t you get on the toppings?” He nods to what’s left in the bag on the table, which isn’t all that much, just thin mushrooms, cilantro, green onions, garlic, and seaweed.

He brings them all out and starts chopping, which goes well until Atsumu starts folding the cabbage and salmon into the batter. Sakusa does his best to force his focus on the task in front of him, chopping up the green onions, he can still see Atsumu out of the corner of his eye. His shirt hugs his chest and with the sleeves rolled up, Sakusa can see all the muscles in his arms moving as he stirs in the cabbage and salmon a bit at a time.

Finally, Sakusa relents and slows down on chopping so he can steal quick glances. He doesn’t know what’s affecting him so much. Maybe because they’ve never been in such a domestic situation before? They’re cooking a meal together. Usually, they make their dinner’s separately, or Atsumu leaves something out on the stove. He’s never seen Atsumu cooking up close. He moves with such sureness, like he knows exactly what he’s doing. 

“All right there, Omi-omi?” Atsumu says with a smile, glancing over at Sakusa with a smile. Shit. He’s been caught. Atsumu grabs a piece of chocolate, slipping it into his mouth before looking back at his bowl. Sakusa looks down in embarrassment, which is a mistake because he notices that Atsumu is wearing sweatpants. His knife stalls entirely. They’re just sweatpants, they shouldn’t draw his attention like this, but how can they not? They don’t hide anything. 

“Omi?”

Sakusa bites down on his lip and looks away again, hoping that the stab of pain would bring him back down to earth. It does the opposite. Atsumu’s eyes are immediately drawn down by the movement, and stay there, focusing on Sakusa’s mouth, which if anything makes his heart beat faster. 

“Atsumu….” he says carefully, not sure if it was meant to be a warning or not, and if it was, about what. 

Atsumu blinks and looks up from Sakusa’s mouth, looking slightly dazed. “What? Sorry, I was….” He coughs, and opts to let the sentence hang.

Sakusa raises an eyebrow. “Staring at my mouth?”

Atsumu turns red. “You just say anything that pops into your head, don’t you, Omi-Omi?” 

Sakusa snorts. “And you don’t?” He starts to chop the cilantro again, more meticulously than was probably necessary. 

“Well, if I really did that….” Sakusa hears the clatter of a wooden spoon as it gets put down on the counter, and out of the corner of his eye, sees a hand making its way over to his cutting board. He stalls in chopping the cilantro to watch. Atsumu’s hand came over and brushed his, tracing the side of his hand. “I’d have already told you I really want to kiss you right now.”

Sakusa lets the knife fall to the cutting board and looks up at him. Somehow, Atsumu has gotten closer to him, so close that their shoulders are almost brushing. His eyes are focused solely on him, and Sakusa isn’t sure he can handle it without getting closer to some sort of precarious edge. Maybe he’s already there.

My heart isn’t beating faster, my heart isn’t beating faster, I swear it isn’t, get a hold of yourself Kiyoomi, Sakusa thinks as he moves his pinky to brush Atsumu’s hand in return. It’s a stupid thing to do, he knows, but Atsumu’s hand is warm. He doesn’t know what he expected, but he didn’t expect it to feel so pleasant, to the point that he doesn’t feel like lecturing Atsumu for reaching over while he was in the middle of chopping. “That so?” he murmurs. 

“Mm,” Atsumu hums in agreement. He’s lightly tracing lines up and down Sakusa’s hand, so casual, as if it isn’t having such an affect on him. The light touches feel more intense than if they were firmer, somehow.

But, upon second look, Atsumu’s hand is shaking. Slightly, but it’s definitely there. He’s nervous. It brings him back to his own thoughts. “Atsumu.” Sakusa slides his hand out from under Atsumu’s and up to his face.

And then he’s leaning forward to kiss Atsumu. Atsumu meets him halfway, and their mouths sort of bump into each other before they slot against one another, and fuck. It feels like the floor’s dropped out from under him and he’s falling, but in a good way, in a really good way. He leans into it and grabs Atsumu’s arm. 

Atsumu’s hand comes up to card through Sakusa’s hair, which makes Sakusa want to bite him, he’s not used to this. His heart’s hammering his chest so much that he’s sure Atsumu can hear it. Then a thought pops up in his head. He lets his mouth drift down from where he’s kissing Atsumu and down to his neck. He sucks a hard kiss on the sensitive skin. Under his lips, Atsumu’s pulse is racing, which calms Sakusa down a bit. So he’s not the only one slightly freaked out about this (in a good way). 

Atsumu groans and Sakusa keeps pressing rough, biting kisses to his neck. He presses Sakusa backwards until his back hits the table, at which point Atsumu hauls him up onto it so they can press together more easily. Experimentally, Sakusa swipes his tongue over some of the marks he’s already bitten into Atsumu’s skin. There’s sure to be marks in the morning when they go to practice. He wonders what Atsumu will say. Will he tell them what they were doing?

“Omi,” Atsumu mutters, and the nickname hits him completely differently like this. Sakusa comes up to respond, only for Atsumu to capture his lips in another kiss. Sakusa melts into it, opening his mouth along with Atsumu’s and following his lead as he feels the first swipe of his tongue in his mouth. 

Sakusa groans into Atsumu’s mouth and presses against him more, hungry for any sort of contact. He lets his hand wander, going from Atsumu’s leg and up to his waist. His own legs are spread to let Atsumu stand between them and press against him, leaving practically nothing between them. He runs his hand up Atsumu’s back under his shirt, feeling the muscles he’s kicked himself for getting distracted by when Atsumu would come out in the mornings with no shirt on and have the audacity to wink at him. He bites down on Atsumu’s lip at the thought of that, and it draws a whine out of Atsumu. 

Atsumu makes a noise against Sakusa’s mouth and breaks away long enough to strip off his shirt and toss it away. Sakusa takes a moment let himself just stare, because fuck he looks good. He moves the hand on Atsumu’s back over to his chest and runs his hand idly across it, not thinking anything of it until Atsumu’s breath catches as his hand brushes one of his nipples. 

Sakusa’s hand stalls, and his eyes flick up to Atsumu’s face. He’s beet red and avoiding Sakusa’s eyes, clearly embarrassed, but his breaths are coming shorter. A malicious grin spreads on Sakusa’s face. Here, finally, a chance to gain the upper hand again instead of losing himself in this feeling. He moves back to Atsumu’s nipple and rolls his thumb over it in firm circles.

Atsumu bites down on his lip to muffle a moan. “Come on, Omiiiii.” 

Sakusa laughs and rolls Atsumu’s nipple between his fingers, pinching slightly. It draws another muffled moan out of Atsumu, which makes Sakusa bristle with pride. “Come on what? Embarrassed or somethi—”

He’s cut off by Atsumu rolling his hips and grinding down against Sakusa. His head falls back and he moans wantonly as his head starts to swim from the feeling. “Uh….” Atsumu begins. “Was that too far? Sor—”

“Do it again.” Sakusa picks his head up and meets Atsumu’s gaze heavily. 

Atsumu’s eyes widen, but then he grins. “Okay then Omi-omi.” He does it again, and Sakusa moans again, digging his nails into Atsumu’s chest. Brushing his hair out of his eyes, Sakusa swears as he catches the look in Atsumu’s eyes, watching his face as he grinds down on him. But it feels so good that he doesn’t really mind. So he does his best to match Atsumu’s rhythm, and he’s rewarded with another shaky groan from him. 

It feel so good, in a way that Sakusa hasn’t gotten in a long while, but his jeans are feeling tighter by the second, and just as uncomfortable. Maybe he shouldn’t have worn jeans.

Finally, Sakusa grits his teeth. “I can’t take this anymore.”

Atsumu stalls in rolling his hips against Sakusa’s, looking slightly nervous. “What? What’s wrong, Omi-kun?”

“Just—” Sakusa makes a noise of frustration and tugs at the waistband of Atsumu’s sweatpants, slipping his thumb under it and rubbing circles around his hip bone. Great. So he’s reduced to this. Part of him is irritated at himself for not minding at all. 

“Come on, use your words, Omi-omi,” Atsumu teases, rolling his hips down agonisingly slowly.

Sakusa bites back another noise and gestures down to his jeans, particularly the noticeable bulge in the front. “It’s uncomfortable,” he mutters, glaring slightly at Atsumu. “Off.”

Atsumu turns beet red, but nods. “Now who’s just saying anything?” Sakusa rolls his eyes and scrabbles frantically at his jeans until they come undone. He tries to get them off, but it’s hard given his position propped up on the table. Atsumu helps him toss them aside, and his boxers end up coming off with them, and it’s such a relief. The jeans were getting to be too restrictive. 

He doesn’t notice the silence until he opens his eyes and sees Atsumu staring down at how hard Sakusa is. Which reminds him that they’ve never done this before, and that he’s got his roommate, Atsumu fucking Miya, between his legs. The tips of his ears burn. So he rolls his eyes. “Come on, as if you aren’t just as hard as I am.” To prove it, he palms Atsumu’s erection through his sweatpants. 

Atsumu groans, not muffling it this time. “Fuck. Okay, okay.” He pulls down his sweatpants and boxers hurriedly. “God, that’s so much better.” And before Sakusa can get a good look at him, Atsumu’s kissing him deep and sweet, and he forgets about it and loses himself in the kiss. Atsumu’s hand comes down to grab his thigh, sliding up leisurely. 

Then he grinds down again, and he feels the slow slide of Atsumu’s warm skin on his, and Sakusa moans into Atsumu’s mouth and bites down on his lip. They start grinding against each other, and it blends together in a mess of moans and hands. Sakusa’s sure he makes noises that he would never admit to making later, but it all fades away into a daze. 

Atsumu, as he quickly learns, really does never stop talking. Sakusa wants to get annoyed at him for it out of principle, but it all feels too good, and his head is pleasantly muddled with it. Atsumu pulls away to say, “You look so good like this.” He squeezes Sakusa’s thigh while he does it, raking his eyes up and down his body.

“What?” Sakusa says, glaring even though the look makes him shiver. “Naked on the table we’re supposed to be eating off of?” It’s half-hearted, if he really wanted to, he would have moved them off of the table.

Atsumu snorts. “Oh please. If you really had a problem with that, you would have moved us off the table when I put you here.” Sakusa’s eyes widen, and he stalls in grinding against Atsumu. “Oh what, you think I wouldn’t notice? I know how particular you are about hygiene and shit.”

Sakusa sighs. “Yeah, well, we can always—” Just then, Atsumu wraps his hand around both their cocks and pumps slowly, spreading the precome dripping down them. Sakusa’s sentence dies in his mouth. “Fucking shit, Atsumu.” He digs his nails into Atsumu’s back. 

“Admit it, you like being spread out on the table like this.” Atsumu’s smiling like he knows that he’s right, and it makes it even worse that Sakusa knows he is. 

Sakusa rolls his eyes. “Keep going, asshole.” 

“Not if you ask like that, Omi-omi.” He lazily circles his thumb around Sakusa’s tip, teasing him purposefully.

Sakusa breathes in sharply. He knows what Atsumu wants, and god dammit he’s gonna do it isn’t he. When did Atsumu start having this much of an effort on him? Was it when they started spending time together in the evenings, quietly doing something or other on the couch together or watching a movie and making snide remarks about it to each other? It didn’t happen often, but it was certainly a change from the beginning, going from doing their damnedest to avoid each other to relaxing together in their sparse free time. Or maybe when Atsumu had started making food for him, waving it off as just because he accidentally made too much. 

Fuck, he’s doomed. It certainly doesn’t help that it’s been a while for both of them. Atsumu goes out sometimes, but lately, both of them have been entirely focused on the season, and Sakusa doesn’t go out at all. Hell, it’s been a while since he’s been touched outside of practices and a few brushes, so this whole thing is a bit overwhelming and brain-melting on top of the fact that it’s Atsumu. 

“Fuck you.” Sakusa winces and avoids Atsumu’s eyes. “Please. Please keep going Atsumu, I want you to make me come.” It all sort of spills out with the first please, and his ears are burning red, but it rings true. 

Atsumu’s smile widens. “That’s what I wanna hear. Good job, Omi-kun.” Sakusa’s face burns, so reaches up and rolls his thumb over Atsumu’s nipple in revenge. “Ah, fuck yes,” he groans, pumping their cocks together with one hand, picking up to a pace that makes Sakusa tip his head against Atsumu and muffle his moans against his shoulder. Atsumu follows him and presses Sakusa to his chest with the hand that’s not fisting their cocks. 

Sakusa turns his face into Atsumu’s neck and presses his lips to his pulse again. It’s fast and hard, just like his. He works on making a mark, biting and sucking in a place that’ll definitely be seen, and he gets a warm thrill from thinking about other people seeing it, the mark that he made on Atsumu. This close, he can hear Atsumu’s breath catch as he does and then his moan when he runs his tongue over the marks. 

Atsumu picks up the pace, and it’s slick and sloppy, helped along by the precome both of them are leaking. His breathing is coming fast, like he’s feeling just as undone as Sakusa is. His limbs feel like they’re on fire, and it’s all he can do to keep pressing rough kisses to Atsumu’s neck to hear his little reactions, but he can feel warmth coiling in the pit of his stomach. His heart feels like it’s about to pound out of his chest, and fuck, it feels like he’s about to dissolve and he wants it so badly. 

“Omi,” Atsumu breathes. His voice sounds strained. “I’m close.”

Sakusa nods against his shoulder, pressing closer. “Me too.”

Atsumu groans. “Oh hell yes.” He starts going faster, then slowing down to run his thumb over their tips at random intervals and it drives him to the bursting point.

“Fuck. Please Atsumu,” Sakusa says against his neck before running his tongue over a fresh sore spot, not thinking about how much it sounds like a whine. 

Atsumu mutters a string of swearwords and jumbled phrases that he doesn’t really catch besides “teeth”, and starts going more intensely, twisting his wrist in a way that makes Sakusa’s breath catch in his throat as warmth pools in his stomach, impossibly infuriating until the moment of release. 

Sakusa comes as he bites down, moaning into Atsumu’s neck and tensing up as Atsumu strokes him through his orgasm. Atsumu starts coming a moment after, and he pulls Sakusa up and kisses him deeply as they both come, splattering both their stomachs, Atsumu moaning into his mouth. It’s different from the other hurried, almost hungry kisses, this one is sweet and patient, like they have all the time in the world.

They’re still for a few quiet moments, catching their breaths. Their chests are heaving, and Atsumu’s hair looks like a mess. Sakusa rests his head against Atsumu’s shoulder, basking in the warm buzzing feeling in his limbs. With one eye lazily opened, he sees the darkening marks on Atsumu’s neck and smiles, brushing a light kiss against them.

“So….” Atsumu beings. Sakusa reluctantly picks his head up from Atsumu’s shoulder to raise an eyebrow at him. Atsumu smiles, but it's more but on and nervous. “The okonomiyaki.”

Sakusa groans and puts his head back down on Atsumu’s shoulder. “Fuck the okonomiyaki. Gimme a second.” He nuzzles his head against Atsumu’s neck, content in the afterglow. It’s a nice moment, but Atsumu’s comment is a reminder of… everything. The fact that he just fucked his roommate, on the kitchen table, and that that roommate is Atsumu Miya. 

Ah, well, he liked it, a lot more than he would have thought. And maybe, there’s a chance that there’s another reason he wants to eke out as much time with Atsumu holding him like this, and idly playing with his hair, and him holding Atsumu. 

“Shit,” Atsumu mutters. “I think I left the stove on.” Sakusa picks his head up just enough to see that he did in fact, leave the stove on.   
Sakusa sighs and sits up, surveying the mess. Their clothes are strewn on the floor. Atsumu’s shirt somehow made it to the chair on the other side of the table, and the food had been left abandoned on the counter, Sakusa’s cilantro half-chopped. And most noticeably, there was a mess of come on both their stomachs. Sakusa wrinkles his nose. “Gross.”

Atsumu laughs. “I didn’t hear you complaining, Omi.” He runs his hand up Sakusa’s thigh to emphasize his point. Sakusa shivers, and elbows him. 

“Shut up, asshole,” he mutters. “I’ll clean up, you start on the food again. I’ll finish doing the toppings after I clean this table. Thoroughly.” 

“All right, all right.” He grins, stepping away from Sakusa, who tries not to frown at the loss. Then he bends down and tosses Sakusa his jeans, shirt, and boxers before gathering his own clothes. Sakusa drapes them over his arm and rips off a paper towel, then another for Atsumu, who accepts it with a smile. 

After they’re both cleaned up and dressed, Atsumu drifts back to the stove and throws a few more things into the batter that Sakusa doesn’t catch before pouring the first pancake into the pan. While he’s doing that, Sakusa gets the cleaning supplies out of the closet and wipes the table down, sneaking one or two glances at Atsumu. He hums under his breath while he cooks. It’s something he does nearly every time he does, but this time, it takes on a new light, and makes Sakusa notice the twist in his stomach more. 

He finishes cleaning the table and goes back over to the counter at Atsumu’s side to finish assembling the toppings for the okonomiyaki. It’s not too bad, involved, but Sakusa wants to do his best on the part he’s in charge of. Atsumu winks at him as he flips over one of the okonomiyaki, and the tips of his ears burn. 

They take the food to the couch to some bad romcom, eating the okonomiyaki along with the chocolate, because it got forgotten in the flow of everything, and make snide remarks about on screen every now and then. Sakusa does it mostly to watch Atsumu laugh. He has this way of crinkling up his eyes when he does, and he can’t get enough of it. 

The okonomiyaki, unsurprisingly, is excellent. “See, Omi!” Atsumu says, brandishing a forkful. “Cooking isn’t that hard, and you can do it!”

Sakusa laughs drily. “Says you. You’re the one who did the actual cooking.”

“Excuses, excuses,” Atsumu mutters, stabbing at a piece of stray salmon.

It’s good food, and they’ve both had long days, so both of their plates are empty pretty quickly. They set them aside on the coffee table and pull blankets over themselves as the lead actress argues with the asshole love interest about something innocuous, and Atsumu snickers at the guy’s baggy cargo shorts. 

Sakusa gets quieter and lapses into mostly listening to Atsumu talk as he watches the movie through half-lidded eyes. The blanket is warm and so is Atsumu, and the food was good, and it’s been a long day, so is it really a surprise when his head tips onto Atsumu’s shoulder? He’s too tired to freak out about it, and besides, he had Atsumu’s come on his stomach not an hour ago, so what does him resting his head on Atsumu’s shoulder matter?

“Omi-omi?” Sakusa startles awake. He hadn’t even realized he was falling asleep. He tilts his head up towards Atsumu and gives him a questioning look. Atsumu smiles at him, a warm and private one. “Happy Valentine’s Day.”

Sakusa laughs lightly and settles back on Atsumu’s shoulder. “Happy Valentine’s Day.”


End file.
